Unknown
I stare out of the window. It is raining heavily. Not as if I have an appointment or something. I am a full time housewife. What you’d call a kept woman. I am kept, how well ‘kept' you wouldn’t want to know. I walk away, slowly from the window. I will not call my walk a waddle.....but it is a waddle to be frank, for I am quite heavy now. Heavy with a child I really do not want. A child I really should not be having. He kicks ferociously. I can almost hear him reading my murky thoughts. He knows I do not want him and is angry with me,hence the kick, I can only presume. It’s all good. God knows, I shouldn’t even be here, in Lagos with a husband I also do not want…better yet a husband I so urgently dislike. We must make the best of every situation we find ourselves, I can almost hear my mother saying. Poor, helpless mother! My mother was also a ‘kept’ woman. So kept, she had not worked a single day in her life. Father was comfortable, we had all we needed until he upped and died. At w